Claudia and the Rescue
by kumquatwriter
Summary: Thirteen years after the BSC series. Claudia and the girls reunite to help one of their own. WIP rating may go up. CHAPTER THREE ADDED 5.15.07
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Claudia and the Rescue ... S****eries: N/A ... ****Fandom: The BabySitter's Club **

**Author: Kumquatwriter ... Email: .**

**Summary: Thirteen years after the BSC series—Claudia and the girls reunite to help one of their own. Work-in-progress; rating may go up.**

**Disclaimer: Scholastic Inc. and Ann M. Martin own all original BSC characters. Scenario is all mine.**

**Notes, Dedications & Thanks****: This is dedicated to the girls at TheHiddenBookcase**

It seemed like an ordinary day until my cell phone rang. I couldn't believe it when I read the display. _Thomas, Kristy_.

"Hello?"

"Claud? Is that you?"

"Kristy? Oh my lord, hang on a sec," I said, glancing at the clock. My class would be over in less than ten minutes anyway.

I dropped the hand holding the cell phone to my side, and faced the students. "Okay, class, you're done a little early. Don't forget to clean up your workspaces before you go." The kids looking back at me were all between twelve and fourteen. For a moment, I felt more like I one of them—as if I'd somehow been caught in a time warp. I shook my head. "I'm leaving early, but please leave the studio lights on, okay guys? See you Wednesday!" I grabbed my purse and headed out the door, putting the phone to my ear again. "Kristy? Sorry about that, I had a class." I tucked the phone under my chin and dug around in my purse, looking for a cigarette.

"I didn't know you were still in school," she said, sounding confused.

"No, silly, I teach now. God, it's been forever. I haven't even talked to you since I got back from Japan, have I?" I laughed, finally finding my cigarettes and lighting one.

"No. But we need to get together soon, don't you think? Because it's been so long? We need to catch up," Kristy said, sounding very casual.

Something was wrong, I was sure of it. Kristy was never subtle, but she was clearly trying to be. "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing," she replied, still sounding nonchalant. "Your mom said you lived in the Village?"

"Yeah," I said, a little confused.

"Great! Are you free this afternoon?" Now she sounded kind of overly-bright. What was going on?

"I finish at four today, and then I guess I'm free until eight—Ro and I have tickets to a show tonight." Well, I could be free at any rate—I only had an appointment for a manicure, and that could definitely wait.

"Perfect. I'm going to be in Manhattan all day, so why don't I meet you somewhere at…oh, say, four-thirty?"

"Um, all right. Where's good for you?" This was definitely a weird moment. I had no idea how well Kristy knew Manhattan, and I didn't want her to get lost.

"Why don't we meet at Stacey's apartment? She's taking the afternoon off, and she said her husband can watch all the kids. We can pick her up and then all go out for coffee, how does that sound?" She was talking kind of fast now, taking over the situation. Same old Kristy.

"You've talked to Stacey _already_?"

"Yeah. We'll see you at four-thirty!" _Click._

I always think it's stupid in movies, when someone hangs up and then just stares at the phone, but that's just what I did—so I nearly jumped out of my skin when it rang again. "Stacey! Did Kristy Thomas call you?"

"Yes, and she's showing up here at four-thirty, dropping off her son, abducting me and getting coffee, which from the sound of it she really doesn't need more of." Stacey sighed. "I had to put her on hold and call Doug to see if he could watch all three kids, and when I got back on the line she said she was bringing Mallory Pike with her and hug up. Do you have any idea what's going on?"

I lit another cigarette—I always tell people I don't chain-smoke, but I almost always do. "No idea. I'm worried, though. She calls out of nowhere and suddenly it's an emergency meeting of the Babysitter's Club all over again."

Stacey sighed again. "I feel really bad, asking Doug to cancel his evening plans. You know he always goes out on Mondays," I could almost hear her rolling her eyes, "But I don't mind being a football widow so long as it isn't more than twice a week. And better over at Gary's than having the Bears here." Stacey always calls her husband's friends 'The Bears' because of their passionate feelings about the Chicago Bears football team. I laughed.

"Well, I've got to cancel a manicure, if that makes Doug feel any better. But Ro and I have tickets to go see _Cabaret_ at eight. Do you think we'll be done in time?" I looked longingly at the pack of cigarettes but decided to be good.

"I don't know, Claud. I mean, this is so out of nowhere that I don't know what to predict," she said. "Anyway, Marcia will be done with her nap any minute now. See you later."

"Later," I said, and hung up, thinking about my old friends.

I should probably tell you a little about them, since you must be confused by now. And about myself. My name's Claudia Kishi. I'm twenty-six years old, and I live in Greenwich Village, where I teach art classes and sometimes have my paintings and sculptures in gallery exhibits. I've loved art my entire life.

I grew up in a small suburb of Stamford, Connecticut called Stoneybrook. I lived there until I was twenty-one, when I moved to New York to finish college. I used to think I'd never even go to college, because I was a terrible student as a kid. I mean, I had to repeat seventh grade and everything. But when I was in high school, I got diagnosed with both Attention Deficit Disorder and Dyslexia. I got put on low-dose Ritalin and boy, did that make a difference. Between that and getting the right kind of tutoring, I actually started to do pretty well in school—I've never made straight A's or anything, but it was so much better than I'd ever hoped. I went to Stoneybrook Community College for two years and then finished my degree in Art Education at Ithaca.

After college, I went to Japan for two years. My family is Japanese—my parents were both born there, but my older sister Janine and I were both born in Connecticut. Going to Japan was an amazing experience. I lived with my cousins; my grandmother Mimi's sister's family. I studied all kinds of art, and finally learned enough Japanese to hold a coherent conversation. I mean, I knew a handful of words and things from Mimi, but it took really being surrounded by the language for me to learn it. Ro teases me that I have an American accent, but he doesn't mind.

Ro is short for Hiroshi—he's my boyfriend. I met him while I was in Tokyo, and we hit it off right away. He's a writer; he's done some things for stage and for TV, and he writes poetry too. I have to admit that the poetry is very traditional, which winds up kind of lost on me. But I love to listen to it. Ro got me interested in those great old monster movies, too, which are so much funnier when you have someone translating the actual script so you can compare that to the subtitles.

We kept in touch after I left Japan, and last year he moved all the way to New York to be with me. He's a great guy, and I'm crazy about him. And, for once, my parents are happy. I know they've never taken my art very seriously (although since the exhibit at MOMA—I mean, the Museum of Modern Art, they've finally really accepted it), and they _really_ hated how I was in college. They were very happy when I took an interest in our family's culture. And they absolutely adore Hiroshi. Every time I visit Mom, she's showing me things about traditional Japanese weddings, and then reminding me that I can have a completely American wedding too, if that's what I want. I never really thought about marrying a Japanese guy, because my family was pretty much the only one in Stoneybrook. The only time I ever dated a Japanese boy was back when at summer camp when I was thirteen. Maybe I should have known, though, because I don't think I ever fell as hard and fast for a guy as I did for Will. And, I mean, Ro and I aren't even really engaged yet, but we've talked about it a lot. I just can't see myself as Claudia Yakado, because I think that sounds vaguely insulting. But I could always keep my name, right?

Anyway. Stacey Houston has been my best friend since I was twelve. She grew up here in Manhattan, but moved to Stoneybrook when we were in middle school. We hit it off, and even though she moved back to New York, then _back _to Stoneybrook, and then we went to different colleges, we've always stayed close. You would not _believe_ the phone bills we can rack up, but that's always been worth it. Stacey's been married for about four years now. She and Doug have two kids: Evan, whose three, and Marcia, who is about to turn two. Stacey's diabetic—she found out when she was just a kid—and has had a lot of health problems. She had Evan okay, but when she got pregnant with Marcia, she wound up being on bedrest for almost the entire time, and for a while no one was sure if she'd actually make it. She can't have any more kids (duh), but she's finally recovering from Marcia. She's just started working again—she's an accountant, and right now she's working from home. Stacey is blonde and gorgeous—maybe a little thinner and paler than she ought to be these days, but she's always dressed in the latest fashions, and lately she's been managing to play off looking a little sickly as cutting edge and chic. She says she thanks God for Kate Moss.

Stacey and I were both in a really great club when we were kids—the Babysitters Club. Kristy Thomas was president, I was vice president because back then, I was the only one with my own phone line. Ah, the days before cell phones! Half the kids in my art classes have their own phones these days, but back then…anyway. Mary Anne Spier was the secretary, and Stacey was the treasurer. It was really a small business—we'd meet three times a week and take calls from parents, so they could find a sitter easily. Stacey sometimes fumes that the BSC doesn't exist _now_, because she hates trying to hunt up a sitter. There were other members of the club too—Dawn Schafer, who was from California and became Mary Anne's stepsister, and Mallory Pike and Jessi Ramsey, who were younger than us. And Abby Stevenson, and Shannon Kilbourne, and Logan Bruno, but I was never really close to any of them. Besides, Abby wasn't a member of the club for long, and Shannon and Logan were associate members. I was only really close to Kristy, Dawn, Mary Anne and Stacey.

I shook my head. Although we all tried to keep in touch, life doesn't always work that way. I mean, we have sort of kept tabs on each other. I knew that Mary Anne had dropped out of college to get married, and that Jessi was on tour—she's a professional ballerina, and she'd sent a note saying she was in the _corps de ballet _in a touring company. That Mallory had published her first book a year ago (She sent an autographed copy!). Kristy came out in college and has had the same girlfriend ever since, and that she's _way_ into the Special Olympics, and is working on her Master's degree. I think. And last I heard Dawn was living in Los Angeles. Really, though, I haven't heard much from any of them since college.

When I went to Ithaca, I got into the party scene, and only Stacey stuck by me. She's the one that pointed out that I was heading for a serious drug problem—she's also the one who spent an entire week with me while I was getting cleaned up. I hadn't really gotten too far into things—I mean, I was taking way too much of way too many things, and it was heading downhill. Most of my old friends had pretty much told me to call them when and if I ever got my head together. Not Stacey, though. She made me confront things head on and wouldn't let up until I was off of everything except caffeine, nicotine and junk food. That she lets me off the hook for, although she said that if I wind up with Type II Diabetes from all the junk I've eaten she is personally going to stab me to death with a syringe. Stacey's also the one that talked me into a two-year sabbatical in Japan. She's kept in better touch with everyone—probably because she's online all the time for work anyway.

I headed back to get ready for my next class. When I got in, the studio was empty. Most of the students had put their canvases off to the sides to dry. I walked around the room, looking over their work. We were working on still-lifes this month, and I was really pleased with how well some of them were coming along.

I checked my watch—my next class was only fifteen minutes away, definitely not time for another cigarette. I sighed and wondered what on earth was bringing Kristy Thomas—and Mallory Pike—to Manhattan out of the blue. And I suddenly wondered why Mary Anne _wasn't_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Claudia and the Rescue**

**Chapter 2**

"Oh my God! You look so good!" Mallory hugged me. "I love that jacket-thing!"

"Thank, Mal!" I replied. My jacket really was pretty cool. It was loose and flowing; it almost looked like strips of fabric that weren't sewn together, and it was in several different jewel tones. "You look great too!" She did—she'd gotten so pretty. She was several inches taller than me and her hair was long and loose, but not as curly as I remember. She was wearing this long, kind of old fashioned skirt and a flowy loose blouse, and a pair of really acute brown boots that I would have practically killed for.

Stacey came out of her bedroom. She was dressed all in black, which made her look thinner than ever. I gave her a once over; I thought she looked more sallow in that color. She made a face at me and said, "Heroin Chic, Claud." Then she kissed me on the cheek—only Stacey would make a joke like that around me these days.

"Are you guys ready? I need to get on the road before seven if I want to get home in time to see Linda. She's on the night shift right now," Kristy said. 

"That must be hard on you guys," I said, digging for a cigarette as we waited for the elevator.

"It is," Kristy said, shrugging. "But she doesn't mind, so I don't mind too much. She'll be starting her residency this summer, so she's feeling pretty good about that. And guess who she'll be working with?" She didn't wait for us to answer, "Peggy Johannsen. Remember her, Stace?"

"Of course I do! I just talked to Charlotte about a week ago." Stacey grinned. "She thinks she's going to graduate _summa cum laude_, which is just amazing."

"Way to go," Mallory said, grinning. "I wish I could say the same, but I barely hit _cum laude_, and there is no way I'm going to even get that this time."

"Guys, clock's ticking, let's get moving," Kristy said. I swear, she never changes. Standing there, in her jeans and sweat shirt, she could have still been thirteen, if it weren't for the little lines around her eyes. She checked her phone. "Dawn's going to call in about fifteen minutes, and I'd like to be wherever we're going by then."

Stacey looked at me and shrugged. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask why Dawn was calling too, but I already knew Kristy wasn't going to answer. I shrugged back. "Kristy, how about we go to that little teahouse I took you to last time you were here? It's only a few blocks away." 

"Perfect," said Kristy. Suddenly, a tiny brown-haired boy came hurtling into the hallway.

"Mommy-mommy-mommy-mommy-mommy!" He shrieked, flinging himself at Kristy's knees. Right behind him was Doug, holding Marcia in one arm. He looked apologetic.

"Stevie, Mommy is going out for a little while. You stay and play with Evan, honey." In one coordinated move, Kristy had scooped up her son, hugged him, kissed him and handed him off to Doug. It practically looked choreographed. "Be good, Stevie-Kenievel. I love you."

Stevie looked about to let out a good solid shriek when Stacey's son Evan stuck his little blonde head into the hall. "I get to be Red!"

"Nuh-UH!" Stevie yelled and squirmed to get down.

Doug laughed, letting Stevie slide down to the floor. Stevie darted down the hall back into the apartment. "Well girls, you enjoy yourselves." He kissed Stacey and followed the boys into the apartment.

"Handful, isn't he?" said Kristy fondly as we got into the elevator, "But he's a good boy. He's already a pretty good ballplayer."

"Is he a Krusher?" I asked. Kristy rolled her eyes.

"You know, I wish he was. I miss coaching normal kids sometimes. Not," she added in a rush, "that I don't love my kids. You guys really ought to come to a game sometime. Maybe even volunteer. Mal does."

Mallory blushed. "I don't very often, but I do like the Special Olympics. Our family has been volunteering for years."

"What is this, a recruitment meeting? Kristy, you didn't have to descend on us like this if that's what you're after." Stacey looked a little pained, and I remembered her saying that once Kristy started in on the Special Olympics, you pretty much couldn't get away until you'd sworn to at least a week's worth of volunteering.

"No, actually, it isn't. But I want to wait until Dawn calls in. This is important, guys."

The teahouse wasn't all that crowded, but it still took a while to navigate the line. We ordered our drinks and took over a table in the corner of the shop. It was very quiet. Not a moment too soon—Kristy's phone rang.

"Dawn? Oh, thank you for calling. Claudia and Stacey and Mallory are with me." Kristy hit the speaker button and held the phone out.

"Hi, guys." Dawn's voice sounded tinny and only somewhat familiar. "How's the east coast?"

"Cold and wet, but what do you expect for March?" Stacey answered.

"So," Kristy cleared her throat. "I know all of you want to catch up, and that's important to me too. But right now, we have important business."

"If you've set all of this up so that you can get a babysitter, I am not going to be amused," Dawn said, laughing.

"Guys!" Kristy looked fierce, "This is about Mary Anne."

"Oh my God, is she okay?" Dawn gasped, "Did something happen with the baby? Did she—"

"No, nothing happened. The baby isn't due until June, and as far as I know she's healthy. But…" Kristy held her hands apart helplessly. "I think she's in trouble."

"What's going on?" I asked, really worried now. Mary Anne and I had drifted apart not long after she'd gotten married, but we _had_ grown up across the street from each other, and she'd been very close to Mimi. I felt awful as I realized that I didn't know she was pregnant, and I didn't even know if this was her first.

"Well, it's hard to explain. She's been getting more and more quiet and withdrawn over the last few years. You know she's always been so shy, I didn't really notice at first," Kristy blushed. "I was so caught up in Stevie, and school, and Linda that I let things slide."

"It isn't just you," said Mallory. "She dropped out of all the book clubs, but nobody noticed." Mal turned to me, "I work at the Public Library now," she added quietly, before looking back to Kristy. "Nobody really noticed, because she never was very outgoing."

"Exactly," Kristy said. "But then I realized that I hadn't even seen her since Christmas. So I tried to take her out for a day—you know, shopping, coffee, maybe a movie. It took about three weeks before she would go!"

"She hasn't been returning my calls for a while, but I figured she was busy," said Dawn slowly. "I mean, _I'm_ busy. I haven't told any of you guys, but I've just opened a store in Santa Monica. I'll tell you about it later," she added hastily, "but whenever I talk to her, she always says she's on her way out. I thought she was getting _more_ outgoing."

"I finally got her to go shopping with me last week," continued Kristy, "but she was acting strange. Kind of skittish. I thought it might be the baby. I mean, I was a nervous wreck when I was pregnant with Steven. But then I took her to Pea in the Pod to try on some new clothes. She got stuck in one of the shirts, and I went in to the changing room to help her. And," she took a deep breath, "she had bruises."

All of us just looked at each other for a long moment. Dawn and Stacey spoke at the same time.

"What kind of bruises?"

"How bad?"

"It looked pretty nasty," Kristy said, "There were little ones on her arm, like someone had grabbed her. And a really ugly, dark one on her shoulder, and a couple more on her back. I asked her about them, and she looked like she was going to cry. Then she just sort of laughed and said that her balance was shot since she'd gotten pregnant, and then changed the subject. She went home right away after that. But now she won't return my calls either, and when I went by the house she wouldn't come outside, just said that she was too busy and she'd call me later."

"It's Walter, isn't it?" said Mallory, tightly.

"I think so," said Kristy, and I noticed that she had tears in her eyes.

"That son of a _bitch_," said Stacey, crumpling up a napkin and throwing it. "I can't believe it, that _son_ of a _bitch!_"

I could hear Dawn swearing. I reached over and took Kristy's hand. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," Kristy said—and somehow, that scared me more than the thought of Mary Anne all bruised up. Kristy always had a plan. "We've got to do _something_, though."

"I'll come out there," said Dawn, "Somebody can watch the store for me."

"No," said Mallory. "You guys, we need to find out what's going on."

"I'm not leaving her somewhere where she's getting hit!" said Kristy.

"I'm not suggesting we do," said Mallory, "But Mary Anne's a grown woman. We can't just kidnap her because of some bruises. Besides, that might make it more dangerous for her."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, if Walt is beating her up, then we have to be careful. Guys like that can get really dangerous if you try to leave them," Mallory blanched. "I should call Jessi. She had a boyfriend that hit her once. She dumped him the first time he touched her, but she was so upset that she started working part time at one of those shelters for battered women."

Mary Anne. Battered woman. I couldn't even equate the two. _She's my friend_, I thought. _I was a bridesmaid in her wedding_. I didn't really like Walt, even back then. I thought he was kind of pushy and pompous, but it was obvious that Mary Anne was crazy in love with him. And there was no doubt that the engagement was like a fairy tale. He was from one of those wealthy families in the part of town Kristy's stepfather was from. Old money, she'd called him. Walter Steward Guthrie the Fourth. He and Mary Anne met while she was in college. She was going to be a teacher, but instead she decided to be a housewife. I remember that I wasn't really surprised; Mary Anne had always been kind of old fashioned. I'd been happy for her. But now…

"Is this their first kid?" I asked, ashamed not to know.

"Yes," Dawn and Kristy said together.

"They tried for years, but nothing," added Kristy. "I knew that Walt thought it was her fault, but I guess I just shrugged that off. I mean, it's one thing for a guy to be kind of a jerk sometimes, that doesn't mean he's…" she shut her mouth and looked away.

"I never thought she'd get hurt," said Dawn. "Remember when she broke up with Logan because he was getting too controlling? And that was when we were _kids_. I never thought…" she trailed off.

"Yeah, but she only ever had one other real boyfriend after that," said Kristy. "And then Walt came in like her Prince Charming, and that was that."

"I never liked Walter," said Mallory, "but I figured so long as Mary Anne was happy, that was all that mattered."

"All of us did," agreed Stacey. I'd rarely seen her look this angry. "I thought he was a jerk, too."

"But he was so sweet to her," Kristy said.

"All those flowers," Mal added.

"That _gorgeous_ jewelry," said Stacey.

"That _house_," I said, "do they still live in that place?" 

"It's practically a palace," said Kristy, "I mean, it makes Watson's house look like a trailer."

"That doesn't make it okay," Stacey said. "We have to get her out of there."

"Stace, no one is saying it's okay," Mal said softly, "but I mean it, she could be in a lot more danger if we just burst in on her, or confront _him_ or something."

We were all silent for a few minutes. It sounded like Dawn was crying. Stacey was fiddling with her jewelry, and Kristy was biting her lip. This was crazy.

"Why don't I go visit?" I said, "I've been out of touch for a while. And," I said, inspired, "I'll have a perfect reason." 

"What do you mean?" said Stacey, startled.

"I'm going to propose to Ro."

"What?!" everyone said at once. I laughed a little. 

"Well, we've been talking about it for a while. He knows its going to happen. I know it's going to happen. So why don't I just ask _him_? Then I'd have a perfect reason to go back to Stoneybrook for a few visits. No one would ever suspect."

Now everyone was talking at once. Kristy banged her spoon on the table. "Guys? Claud? Are you sure you want to do this? I don't want you to get married because of this. Besides, this is about Mary Anne, not you."

I shot her a look. "I'm not trying to make it about me. I'm trying to make a good excuse to get Mary Anne out of that house. And I'm not talking about getting _married_ to help her, I'm talking about making things _official_. For God's sake, I'm not making a major life decision just for the hell of it!"

Kristy softened. "I'm sorry, Claud. Well…let's hope congratulations are in order?"

"Do you give a guy an engagement ring?" wondered Mallory.

"Mal!" said Stacey, looking like she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She hugged me. "Claudia, I hope this works out. For everyone."

"Please, please keep me posted," said Dawn.

We spent a few minutes catching up with each other. It turned out that Dawn and her boyfriend had opened a store selling all-natural cleaning and beauty products. They have an eighteen-month old daughter named Elaine, but don't want to actually get married. Mallory said she'd been working with my mother at the library in Stoneybrook, and that she was working on her second book, but was arguing all the time with the publisher. She promised to call Jessi (who out is not just in the _corps_ but is also the understudy for Juliet!) and bring her up to date on everything. Finally, we headed back to Stacey's apartment.

After Kristy picked up a very sleepy Steven, she and Mal left, with lots of promises to call. Stacey walked me back down to the street after they'd left. I lit a cigarette.

"Are you _really_ sure about this, Claud?" she asked?

"Really. Thing is, I think Ro's going to propose soon anyway. We really _have_ been talking about it a lot. So I'm just going to go for it."

"Good luck, Claud. You better call me." She hugged me tight.

"I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

**Claudia and the Rescue**

**Chapter 3**

I wasn't nearly as confident about asking Ro to marry me as I let on. I was scared out of my mind. I mean, it's one thing to be talking about it so much, but it's another to just propose to a guy. And I _didn't_ know if you were supposed to give a guy a ring. Not to even mention how worked up about Mary Anne I was on top of it—and would Ro think _that _was the only reason I wanted to marry him, like Kristy did? I was a nervous wreck as I headed back to my apartment.

I let myself in and locked the doors behind me. My apartment is _tiny_, but I love it. It's a studio, with an exposed brick wall on one side and the other three walls painted a sort of off-white. You can't even see one of the walls anymore, because I've turned it into one giant collage. Pictures of friends and family, paintings by some of my students, art I've done, small sculptures—you name it, and it's there. I also have some normal, framed pictures on one of the other walls. I have a futon that folds out into a bed—otherwise, there'd be no room for anything else! The kitchen is a tiny little alcove that leads into the tiny, tiny bathroom with a little stand-up shower. It's kind of like an airplane bathroom, but it's enough for me.

As I locked the door, I could hear meowing. My cat's name is Chibi Niku, which pretty much means Cute Kitty in Japanese—she's black and white in kind of interesting patterns. I sat down and she jumped in my lap, batting at my long hair. "Hey Nik, how was your day?" I asked, petting her. She purred and stretched, sticking her behind up in the air for me to pat. I petted her for a while until it was time for me to get dressed.

How I dress has always been a big part of how I express myself. Tonight, for instance, I decided to wear a pair of blue jeans with lots of elaborate embroidery up the sides of the legs. With this I put on a white fitted silk blouse I got in Tokyo and a black sweater that fell to my ankles. I put on a pair of pretty, strappy white sandals that I love—they're actually Jimmy Choo's, but I got them at a thrift store for only ten dollars (I love thrift stores!). My ears are double-pierced, and I always wear a tiny pair of pearls that Ro gave me for our first anniversary—in the other holes I put on a pair shaped like lizards, which I'd made myself out of green glass beads. I pulled my long black hair up into a kind of loop so the ends stuck out of the top. I added a couple of rings—one that looked sort of like a wave, and the other my SHS (Stoneybrook High School) class ring. I was just finishing my makeup when Ro called.

"Hey you!"

"Five minutes away. You want to just meet the cab?" His voice is so sexy. He learned English from actual _English _people, so he has this amazingly cute British accent.

"I'll be waiting!" I said and hung up. I grabbed my purse, patted Niku on the head and ran out the door, careful to lock it behind me. As I got down to the bottom of the stairs a cab pulled up, and Ro opened the back door.

He looked great, as usual. He was wearing a really nice black suit with a dark red T-shirt under it. His hair is a little on the longish side—kind of like a surfer, and it has one cowlick that always falls in his eyes. I pushed it out of the way and kissed him. "_Ano ne_." (That's my nickname for him. It means 'hey you')

He smiled and put an arm around me as the cab took us towards the Theater District. "So, how was class?" he asked.

"Oh, pretty good. We're starting life drawing next week. It's going to be interesting to see how the puberty squad handles drawing nudes. How about you?"

"Well, it was pretty busy. I've been working on writing copy for a new Revlon campaign. I can't say I like this one as much, but it could be worse. But I do have something to celebrate…" He grinned and kissed me again. "NBC called. It's a yes."

"Ro! That's fantastic!" It really was. Since he came to New York, Ro has been working for an ad agency, which he really doesn't like. I mean, he doesn't mind the work, but it isn't what he's good at. We were both thrilled when he got an interview at NBC to be a staff writer. "When do you start?" 

"Not until the first of May—they want me to start in writing for the fall season. But there's a terrific hiring bonus, which means I can take the bigger apartment next month after all!" He took my hand, turning serious suddenly. "So…a big apartment like that would be pretty lonely, don't you think?"

"And?" I said.

"So, wouldn't you like to move in?" He bit his lip, like he was afraid I might say no.

"I'd love to! Silly," I said, messing with his hair, "isn't that why you wanted the bigger apartment to begin with?"

"I know, but…" Ro blushed, and was interrupted as the cab pulled to a stop by the Gershwin Theater. He paid the cabbie before I could even reach my purse, then took my hand and led me to the box office. "I hope a late dinner will still be okay?"

"Of course. I came prepared," I laughed, opening my purse. It was stuffed with Snickers bars, Raisinettes, Gummi Bears and other goodies. I am such a junk food addict.

Ro smiled, "Remind me, I'll never go hungry if I'm stranded on a desert island with you." 

"Hey, I _was_ stranded on a deserted island once, and we _all_ ate candy." I laughed again.

"Ah yes, candy bars and fish. You never cease to amaze me." He opened the door for me.

As he led me to our seats, I wondered how I was going to propose. I was suddenly an absolute wreck. _He's just talking about moving in together_, I thought. _Maybe you're rushing things after all_. To calm myself, I started on a bag of Gummi Bears, handing the green ones to Ro. He put an arm around me again, and I snuggled in to watch the show.

After the final curtain, Ro took me to a little Indian restaurant we both love. We placed our orders and then just sort of sat there, staring at each other.

"Claudia-_chan_, what is on your mind? You've been a thousand miles away all night." Ro took my hand gently.

"Nothing, _Ano ne_. I mean…I'm just thinking a lot."

"But what about? Love, it's obvious that you're upset, and I'm getting worried. Am I rushing you too much? You know, you don't have to move in," he began.

"No! I mean…No, of course I want to move in. I just…I don't want to rush you either, but I love you, and I've been thinking…I mean…and…"

He put a finger to my lips. "Claudia, Claudia, what are you actually trying to say?"

I took a deep breath. "I'm trying to say that I want to…that is…I mean…will you marry me?"

Ro's jaw dropped. 

"I'm sorry! I mean, I know we've been talking about it and I just…" I was babbling. Ro shook his head and smiled.

"Claudia-_chan_, darling, of course I want to marry you." That shut me up. "But you've rather gotten ahead of me. I suppose it's my own fault." 

Now _I_ was confused. "Huh?" I said, brilliantly.

"Well, I've been carrying this around for two months, but I couldn't figure out the best time to ask _you_. It looks like _now_ is a touch too late, but if you forgive me…" He pulled a box out of his pocket and held out a beautiful diamond ring, then got on one knee. "Claudia Kishi, yes, I will marry you—but only if you'll marry me."

I must have stared at him for a full minute before I could speak. "Yes! Oh yes," I said and he jumped up to kiss me. I was startled to hear applause—I'd forgotten we were in a public place! Everyone was clapping and smiling. I couldn't help it, I started to cry.

We went back to my apartment—Ro has a roommate, and besides, Niku would worry. It stung for a moment as I realized that's the exact sort of thing I teased Mary Anne about when we were younger—she had a gray tabby cat named Tigger that she was crazy about, and we all used to tease her about how much she worried over him. And here I am, worrying about Nik getting lonely overnight. I pushed the thought aside as best I could—easier, once I was in Ro's arms, ready to celebrate our engagement.


End file.
